


Out of Time

by come_get_yall_joyboy



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Billy Gets the Arc He Deserves, Blood and Gore, But He Still Starts Out As a Complete Asshole, Deals with Themes of Abuse, Explicit Language, F/M, High School Parties (Underage Drinking), Period Typical Attitudes for the Most Part, Scary Alien Eldritch Monsters From Another Dimension, Time Travel Shenanigans, Violence, fem!reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 05:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19900771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/come_get_yall_joyboy/pseuds/come_get_yall_joyboy
Summary: Being the new kid in a small Midwest town isn’t the most exciting prospect but throw in eldritch abominations and mad scientists and…and it’s horrifying. Adjusting to your new life in Hawkins is “business as usual” as much as it can be until a hot-headed Californian crashes the party and your budding romance is immediately put to the test by alien creatures from another dimension.





	Out of Time

**Author's Note:**

> April 4th 2020 Update:
> 
> Originally I planned on following canon as close as possible except for rewriting Billy's involvement in the plot. However! I've decided it'll be more like a rewrite in general. The spirit and direction of the source will be maintained but events and the timeline of said events won't be the same (thus "alternate canon" still makes since as a tag to me). This especially comes with news that a new and final season is coming after the third and I decided I'd give up trying to stick to canon as much as I could considering Billy, the focus of this fic (aside from the dear reader of course) won't be in the final season so I might as well do some creative magic. Also...this decision is in part because it's been a year since I've sniffed around this fic. Things came up in life that threw a wrench in things. I won't go into detail but with this quarantine business I rediscovered my Ao3 account and saw some unread comments on it. And I thought, wow, yeah why didn't I come back to this? So I'm in a different headspace writing now than when I first started out.
> 
> I'd also like to explain the "period typical attitudes for the most part tag". It's no secret the 80s were a different time, to say the least. But I'm going with what the show does and while I'm not acting like things were all sunshine and roses I'm also going to avoid depicting things that are uncomfortable. This is supposed to be a sci-fi adventure romance...thing. And I feel trying to give serious issues of the time the weight they merit while also switching between make out scenes cause everyone thinks this character is hot is in some sort of bad taste. So it's not so much historical revisionism so much as...conveniently most of the distasteful things happen off camera to people who aren't part of the cast. We're all here to eat popcorn and indulge in a little romantic fantasy so lets focus on that and not societal issues--we need an escape from all the batshit things going on now as it is. But let me now if you think this is a good decision or not.
> 
> But enough behind the scenes stuff, read on!

In the movies a flickering flashlight is never a good sign. Your grip on the metal torch is clammy as you’re lowered down into the Hess farm’s dry well, balancing precariously on an old wooden pail. It’s like the world’s most uncomfortable swing.

You really, really hope the well is actually dry.

Ever since the farm had been abandoned kids have been coming out here to test each other’s courage. Stupid dares, peer pressure, a sort of hazing for newcomers and the football team alike. You’re no less immune to it than anyone else. The overgrown property is the perfect breeding ground for scary stories and wild imagination.

“How is it? See anything down there?” Alex’s voice is half-mocking, half-concerned. You haven’t let out a peep since they began feeding the rope as steady as possible for two complete idiots. Alex is on the wrestling team and Hannah is more of a couch potato, so he’s doing most of the heavy lifting. If he messes up, you’ll haunt him for life.

It’s his fault you’ve gotten drug around in the middle of the night to hunt nonexistent ghosts. He’s so desperate to impress Hannah and keep the spark of their fresh romance glowing that he’ll do any stupid thing. Which means, as his best friend, you also have to do any stupid thing too.

“Wanna know so bad you should be in my place instead!” You call back up, hiding unease with humorous spite. He’s the one who begged you to come, he’s the one who wants to see Hannah’s boobs so bad he can hardly think straight, and so he should be in the one in a cold, dark well.

The air is unnaturally still and you swear your heartbeat is echoing off the old stones. It smells like a musty dishrag that’s been left out wet too long.

“You’re smaller than me, I’d just snap the rope.” He explains with a bit of a laugh, as if thinking of himself in such a position is somehow funny. True enough his 6′2 frame wouldn’t pair well with the creaky bucket.

“I think I’m almost at the bottom.” How far down does this thing go? The flashlight continues to cut in and out. An inconvenient time for it to decide the batteries are low. What little moonlight there is can’t even reach down here. You shake it, hit it, shake it some more, only for it to decide ‘ _fuck_ _it_ ’ and shut off. “I can’t see anything!”

“What, no bones or rotting corpses?” Hannah’s jeer is friendly in the way peers taunt each other and she probably doesn’t have a real mean bone in her body but it’d be appreciated if she kept her mouth shut. She’s nice enough but you’re still of the opinion Alex has shit taste. She’s preppy and treats you like she’s known you her whole life but in that condescending older sister way that makes you feel inadequate in comparison.

The story goes some hapless victim got stuck down here on a dare of their own, only to starve when they couldn’t find a way back up. It’s Hawkins’ own urban legend and hopefully totally made up. If you’re lucky you’ll be able to confirm it’s all bull.

“Like I said, I can’t see anything!” Just when you begin patting around for your cellphone to use as a light, the rope snaps. You only have a split second to register the sound of threads pulling themselves apart. It’s the same sound as ripping fabric with your bare hands except it causes fear to shoot through your nerves.

Your heart lurches, insides crawling up your throat as if trying to shoot back up to safety up on the surface. You’re falling.

You land with a yell on top of something spongy but firm. The worst you might get is a few bruises. Relief soothes for only a moment before you realize the only way back out is now useless. The bucket lying next to you with what remains of the frayed rope curled up at its side. You know it’s there because your shin bumps into it when you attempt to right yourself and almost fall over it.

Feeling around blindly your hand brushes across a rectangular object that must be your phone. With shaky hands you turn the flashlight app on.

“[Name]!” It’s Hannah and her voice is almost a scream. You can just make out two heads peering over into the well, their own lights dancing across their faces and exaggerating the shadows, making them look like the crying masks at a theater. “You okay?!”

“Hey!” Alex is full of concern. Earlier amusement evaporated. “Say something!”

“I’m…I think I’m fine.” Your tone is wavering but besides a sore ass you’ll be okay.

Rather than packed dirt and sun starved weeds there’s vines growing all over the floor. Thick like the roots of some ancient tree but pressed close together akin to a ball of snakes like you’d seen in nature documentaries. They’d coil together in mating hysteria. It’s disturbing.

“I’ve got para cord in the truck, I’ll be right back.” Alex says. He sounds so far away.

And just like snakes the vines _wriggle_.

“Uh…guys?” Hannah probably can’t hear you and Alex is searching for anything to use as a makeshift rope so his help is out of the question. “Guys!”

The ground opens up then. The earth no longer inanimate dirt and rock but a sentient beast swallowing you hole. The vines slither across your body as they drop you below, feeling cold and sticky.

There’s screeching. You can’t tell if it’s you or Hannah screaming, “[NAME]!” Or maybe it’s something inhuman. Everything is a burst of confusion as the oxygen is knocked out of your lungs and you’re left dazed with fright, landing hard on your back. Staring at the inky pit which surrounds you.

“HANNAH!” It happened in an instant and it’s over. “ALEX!” The air is stale and unsettlingly quiet. It’s like being locked in a box. A big, gross, underground box. If they’re calling out to you, you can’t hear them. They probably can’t hear you either.

 _Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic._ This is probably where the body went. The one they say starved after a prank gone awry.

This is the belly of the whale or the first layer of hell. The vines cover everything like branching veins, some of them even _pulsing_. You can’t see much with only your phone to light the way. Better than nothing but it only adds to the eerie atmosphere. Maybe you don’t want to know what’s probably down here with you just beyond the phone’s flash.

There has to be a way out.

There’s no signal down here and charge is low. The only noises are your harsh breaths and a low hum that comes from everywhere. This must be what deer feel like when they’re half-crazed with fear, insides about to combust, barreling through underbrush. There isn’t anything here (not yet, instinct whispers) but if feels like there _should_ be. Like it’s only a matter of time. An anticipatory sort of fear.

So begins a blind journey through a labyrinth of darkness. Holding out hope that this is all just a dream and your mother will be shaking you awake any second, venting about how you’ll be late for school and you should stop hitting snooze on the alarm so many times.

There has to be a way out.

Maybe you spend only moments fumbling around, tripping over the uneven terrain. Maybe you spend hours sweating and disoriented. But you hear it. Something shuffling just down another passage of squirming vines and dead earth.

You’d avoid it. Run. But it doesn’t sound like an animal or beast. It sounds like the sort of gasping that comes out of someone when they’re having a panic attack and trying not to explode.

“H-hello…?” It goes quiet and even you freeze, waiting. It’s a sort of stand off though you can’t see it and it can’t see you. Blood is pounding in your ears. “Anyone there?”

A sniffle. It isn’t yours.

You approach cautiously. Turning the corner at a snail’s pace, sick worms of dread squirming in your stomach.

The light from your phone doesn’t reach too far so all you see at first are dirty converse. They’re almost unrecognizable with how caked in grime they are but you notice they’re too small to belong to an adult. It’s a child.

“Are you lost…too?” He croaks out amidst tears, they leave tracks down his mud smeared cheeks. He doesn’t look like he can be any older than an elementary school student. By how disheveled he appears it seems he’s spent more time down here than you have and the light from your phone momentarily blinds him. He squints his dark eyes and raises his arms to block it.

“Yes. I think I am.”


End file.
